Wednesday, December 10, 2014


Gentle Readers, we here at the Alexandria Daily Poop have decided to avoid burdening you further with all the irritating, frustrating, infuriating horrifying sickening things that are going on, at least for today. Instead we present you with a true (well, maybe embellished a little, but mostly true) holiday story that really happened to our Beloved Editor, F. Allen Norman, Jr. Here 'tis, and MERRY CHRISTMAS!
It was Thanksgiving a few years back, I'm thinking probably 2006; and I had spent all night the past night and most of the morning taking people to the airports and other transportation hubs. Myself, I couldn't make it back home that year, so I sought out a place that didn't require reservations and served a banquet with a real turkey. I found one at a corner of northern Old Town Alexandria. I was into my second helping of turkey and fixin's when a family came in and got seated.
One member of the family was a rather rambunctious little lad of about 5 or 6. His mother kept telling him not to run in the restaurant, but he kept it up. The whole scene was making many of the diners a bit uncomfortable, me in part because I thought the kid was going to run headfirst into a table corner or otherwise hurt himself.
Finally I stood up, dressed in my best suit. I addressed the boy's mother: "Madam, if I may, I'd like to have a word with your son" I said.
"Who are you?" she asked quizzically.
"I am Inspector Allen. I'm with the North Pole Police" I replied, looking dead serious.
The mother and everyone in the restaurant caught right on and gasped. "Owen!' the mother said, 'Look! It's an elf!"
Little Owen was awed at how suddenly things had gotten very quiet, and how he was suddenly the center of everyone's attention ... especially this big man who (he thought) was one of Santa's secret police. "Owen' I began, 'Do you know how Santa knows if you've been bad or good?"
Owen just bit his lip and fidgeted.
"Well, Owen, he has his own police force. They might be taxi drivers like me and they might even be the ice cream man in the summer. But we all take notes, and mommies and daddies write to us, too. Now today, just now, I watched you not minding your mom. Owen, let me tell you something."
Owen's eyes began tearing up as I continued: "Now, Owen, Santa knows little boys are going to want to rip and tear and run around. In fact, if little boys didn't like to rip and tear, Santa would be worried. And if you had gotten yourself hurt today, it would have ruined everyone's Thanksgiving; and it would have made Santa very sad. Santa doesn't want little boys to get hurt. That's why you should always listen to your mother when she tells you to sit still."
The kid was on the verge of a full-bore cry as if he were anticipating a whipping. So just before the waterworks began in earnest, I softened my voice and said: "Owen, are you crying because you think I'm going to tell Santa you were bad today?"
He sniffled, choked back a sob, and nodded.
I gave him a thoughtful look. "Okay, Owen, let me tell you what I'm going to do. Now, you're a little kid because you need to learn stuff, right?"
The boy nodded.
"All right, that's right. Learning is what little boys are supposed to do. Now, since I told you why you should mind your mom, did you learn anything?"
Looking bewildered about where I was going with this, Owen nodded again.
"Well, then, if you are supposed to learn, and learning is what you did today, then you did what you are supposed to do. and doing what you're supposed to do is being good"
As Owen's eyes began to clear, I pulled out a pocket New Testament, pretending it was my policeman's notebook. "So', I announced, 'I'm going to write in my report that Owen was GOOD on Thanksgiving!"
I have never seen such a reversal of despair into joy. "THANK YOU! THANK YOU!" he exulted. I told him to remember what he had learned, and returned to my table to a standing ovation from the other adults in the dining room.
I don't know whatever became of young Owen, who is probably 13 or 14 right now. But when I think of Owen's reaction when he realized he had been forgiven, I think of what thankfulness we should all feel as we celebrate the birth of our true Savior this season. Owen's redemption should reflect our own.

Wednesday, October 1, 2014


We have several times here expressed our hope that you will be able to prevent the firestorm of racial unrest that will almost certainly result should anything happen to the Current Resident of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, Northwest.
It seems to me that you all were doing a fine job until that bitch of a director was appointed to watch over you and supervise you like a pack of 6th graders.  The other day she said she takes "FULL RESPONSIBILITY" for that nut who got into the White House and ran nuts until one of you - who wasn't even on the clock - stopped him.  IF SHE IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS DEBACLE WHICH COULD HAVE IGNITED RACE RIOTS IN EVERY CITY IN THE COUNTRY THEN GODDAMMIT SHE SHOULD FUCKING WELL RESIGN!!!!!
If as has been reported the intruder alert was muted at the request of the White House Usher's Office, it was doubtless done either on her orders or because one of you beleaguered SS people feared being reported to Ms. Ballbuster.
Do us a favor, guys. The minute the bitch is gone, turn up that intruder alert loud as a bastard and then test it daily at noon.
And the next time somebody pulls that crap of jumping the fence, let the dogs take a few bites. God knows they've earned it, and so have you.


We do not wish to alarm anyone, but the diagnosis of a person with the Ebola virus in the Continental United States could be a dream come true for the Ward Churchill faction of the American left.
The thinking of this particular group of deranged loons goes like this: Ebola is a disease that kills poor African black folks, so "Big Pharma" doesn't care about it. But if it started hitting the evil white folks in America, research would be put into overdrive to find a vaccine or a cure.
Seriously, that's how these nuts think. And one of them may be a Texas health worker who may decide to let one of the contacts this Ebola patient had contact with slip the dragnet and go out and start an outbreak in this country.
We are not saying it's happening.  But it is possible. Horrifyingly possible.


GENTLE READERS, we here at the Alexandria Daily Poop see by the spike in pageviews that you have been curious to see what we have to say about the resignation of the most corrupt, lawless, and partisan Attorney General in this Republic's history.
Our first reaction of course was: Hallelujah, it's about fucking time. But after that settled, we said: Wait one damn minute.
While it is good that Obama's main henchman - his consiglieri so to speak - will soon be gone, he is staying on until a suitable replacement can be snuck past the Senate. As always with this gang of criminals, there's something rotten afoot. Do remember to vote next month.

Friday, September 12, 2014


WE HAVE BEEN QUITE BUSY WORKING FOR A LIVING and since we don't have the luxury of time for either golf or blogging, (and since we STILL haven't found a suitable laptop at a decent price and have to sit here in the library) we haven't posted in quite some time.
Honestly, Gentle Readers, we are grateful that a small corps of you hang on and check up on us from time to time. We know that many of you - including some folks in Ukraine - have been checking in to see what we might have to say about this situation or that. And so much has been happening that it's difficult to keep track of it all.
But from Ukraine to the ISIS savagery and around the world, the bad guys are on the move, and they are taking advantage of the fact that we Americans were fools enough to choose an ineffectual bumbling twit who would rather play at golf than face and deal with the real problems facing America and the world.
It's not as if we here at the Alexandria Daily Poop didn't try and stop it. We vote like hell in every election. And we will do that again in two months, and try to take the quack out of this lame duck. America is not dead, friends. Not even with President Ebola in the White House.


The Current Resident of 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue Northwest, Barack Hussein Obama, seems to be emulating the alchemists of old, those forerunners of legitimate scientists who tried to find a way to turn lead into gold.
Mr. Obama seems to be trying to win a war without having a victory. To patriotically help the Current Resident out, we now present to you the only known substitute for victory:
You are welcome, Mr. Obama.

Saturday, May 31, 2014


WE ARE still without a computer and trying to keep this electronic fishwrap operating. It's tough to find the time and even harder writing about Obama and the rest of those dirty rats without a nice cold quart of beer handy. First off, we need to point out that we have corrected our previous post to note that King Agag was killed not at Jericho but during the Amelikite Campaign. It was Joshua, not Saul what fit de battle o' Jericho, and Jericho was hundreds of years before the Amelikite campaign.

Now for a few tidbits:

Yes, gentle readers, we must discuss this a bit. We think that this kid wasn't really nuts so much as he was full of himself, a trait that is usually tempered by sound parenting but gets out of control fast. We don't know if he "heard voices" but we doubt he would heed them if he did, since he saw himself as equivalent to God Almighty. Right now we don't have any specific solutions as to what to do when one suspects someone may be this kind of what we call a "Satanic personality", but perhaps a three week hold and an interview with law enforcement could be imposed for anyone who within the last three years has been charged with and/or convicted of violent misdemeanors such as assault, battery, threats, etc; and/or if any mental health professional has within the past five years indicated grave misgivings about someone whom there was still not enough cause to involuntarily commit; prior to such a person being able to purchase a firearm.
We understand the aggrieved father of one of the victims venting at a "hate the evil guns" rally, but GUNS ARE NOT THE PROBLEM AND NEITHER IS "EASY ACCESS" TO THEM. The father mentioned that he wanted to go back and live "like we did in the 50s". Well, back in the 1950s and into the early 60s, you could order a Colt .45 revolver or an M1 carbine out of the Sears catalogue and have it sent COD right to your door parcel post.  Those were the days.
As we have pointed out here before, if easy access to large quantities of firearms is to blame for all the killing, then WHY IS IT YOU NEVER HEAR ABOUT A MASS SHOOTING AT A GUN SHOW?? It would be ridiculously easy to do (in theory): just get some magazines for an AK-47 or an M-16 or what have you and carry those plus a pair of wire cutters and the mags into the gun show, where you will find dozens of weapons that will accept your magazines and ammo, right out in the open and secured to the display tables only by a thin easy-to-cut cable. Snip it, grab the gun, slam in a mag...
And you will likely resemble bloody Swiss cheese before you even get a round off. Want to be free of mass shootings? Then put a 24-hour gun show in the lobby of every theater and the main entrance of every school. Easily available firearms are a MUST for good public safety. And that's the name of that tune.